The sound of soft scraping and shudders along the earth woke me, I sat up in a jolt, my neck stiff and hurting from the rough sleep. We were in the outer hall, the heavy stone doors finally shutting with a small thump, around us were torches of purple flames, casting across the hall.

I didn’t really understand that choice, purple as they were, they provided little to no true illumination, leaving much still in shadow. I looked about for the others, and found them huddled close to the opposite edge, away from the door. They still seemed to be asleep, and if so, raised a troubling question. Who had closed the doors?

I stood up, gingerly prodding my arm again, the wound was better, but still nowhere near fully articulate. I started to pace, walking up to the utterly massive doors. They stood at just slightly less than twice my height, and according to Page, their thickness was roughly a palm’s width. Why would anyone at all choose to install doors like these? Besides the ornately carved designs, vines, heraldry and once again the men cloaked in cloth, formed into mural. Besides the grandness of the design that accentuated the size of the hall, as though built for giants rather than men… Perhaps it was justified.

In here I felt dwarfed, the pillars within carved into lifelike statues of men and women, who seemed to hold up the ceiling by presence alone, as though they could just will the world to move and it would leave their sight. Plaques were embossed into a silvery metal, screwed into the base of the statues themselves. Page helped me recall their writing, and I read them as I circled, passing time.

Aer, Taevyan. Founder of the Ficanam branch of the Century Brigade during year At Ton, held Ficanum against Annihilator assault with 40 men and 200 militia. Died in final assault on the Adversary.

Ra, Hae Mon. Interim governor of Ficanum during years Lod Ton to Tra Ton. Brought in Riq Hrath, and encouraged farming alongside the mining of iron and copper. Early pioneer of the windmill.

Riq, Hrath. Platoon commander during years Lod Ton to Tae Ton, exterminated the Flamed Eagle, Taeton Maradors and Ficanum Squablers bandit companies, despised lack of language proficiency.

“Oi, did you close the door?” The girl had woken apparently, and was eager to share her wakefulness with the two around her, who groaned and stretched out, muttering what I was sure were profanities beneath their breath. I shook my head, then pointed quizzically at the torches.

The girl frowned, “Must be some kinda triggered magic, it’s dark.” The other two had began to stand up, and began the teeter totter of half sleep. The lights abruptly brightened, turning from purple to white. Everyone flinched, and the relaxed man nearly fell on his face. He was grabbed by the regal man, whose other hand covered his eyes as he slouched ever so slightly.

The room gradually came back into focus, now dispelled of its mysterious airs, the torches illuminated all corners of the hall, the statues became truly majestic, shadows forming clearly against the stark white stone. The lights also illuminated a path within the hall itself. Revealing a door in a far recess of the hall, it’s black design seeming to be like a silhouette against the walls.

“That was truly dramatic, I’d never known they had such a penchant for showmanship.” The regal man remarked. “Now, before we forget.” He turned to me, “Would you kindly come over here and sit down?” Ah right, the healing, I supposed this would be at the very least a good chance to learn about the magic they employed and what it did.

I walked over, taking a seat close to them. “It’s interesting that you didn’t catch a chill with that wind blowing in your face.” The other man noted, “But you just walked in, stepped over there and collapsed.” He shrugged. “None of us felt strong enough to pull you away.”

“So who’s gonna do this one?” The girl interjected. “I don’t mind it being me if none of you want to.” She noted. Finding no objection, she pulled the doll from the satchel beside her. Seating herself next to me, she rubbed at the doll, and closed her eyes. Something in the air vibrated, sending reverberations that shifted the air and put a low hum I could feel in my teeth. She moved her hand, and I tensed, watching as her fingertips touched my wound. All at once the humming reached a crest, before falling completely silent.

My wound remained, the stitches still crudely holding the flaps together as edges strained to pull itself apart. I cocked my head, prodding at my wound and pushing her hand away in the process. The other Menders stared incredulously. “How long did you say you’d been doing this?” The relaxed man asked, turning his gaze to her.

To her credit, she was rather calm about the situation. “I’ve been doin this for ten years! That’s never happened before, really!” Yes, very calm. “All the magic was there, pooled together and raring to go, then it jus upped and disappeared!” She turned to me “Did you do something jus now?” She asked, staring at me.

“Hmm, allow me an attempt.” The other man said. He didn’t reach for a satchel, instead folding up his sleeves and closing his eyes, power pooled again, and my teeth felt like they’d chatter themselves out of my skull. His hands clamped onto the wound on my right arm. Once again, the humming built up to ear-splitting volume, and fell silent. I groaned, and checked my wound again, no change, not a twitch or a quiver.

The man was speechless, consternation played across his features, he stretched the wound lightly to peer within. Finally, he spoke, “I don’t understand at all, how could this possibly happen?” He didn’t look up, continuing his ministrations until I pulled my arm away when he pulled it enough that I feared the stitches wouldn’t hold. “What made these wounds?” He asked, eyes concerned.

“Hmm, why the interest?” The relaxed man asked, his interest piqued. The regal man seemed reluctant to speak, but seemed to overcome it after a short while.

“In the Old Tales, a story is whispered of a blade forged by the Brigade to sever on more planes than just the physical. It is said that the blade rends souls, any wound it creates cannot be healed by magic, and will never be healed by the body.” He speaks slowly, as though relating a ghost story.

“Why make something like that at all?” the girl asked, “Everyone knows going up against them is suicide even without weapons like that.”

“It was said to have been forged for the Adversary, whose armies would heal magically in between battles, but once they realized what it could do to other people, they decided it was too dangerous to be used or kept. They failed to destroy it, and it was hidden away.”

“My wounds are healing normally.” I remarked gesturing to the scar tissue at the edges of the wound itself. He nodded, but his eyes remained narrowed. “Will we explore the door that just showed up or should I just stay here until the large doors open?”

“I don’t see the harm in following us, and this place does give me the creeps.” The relaxed man answered. “While we’re at it, my name is Jubin.” He gave a small nod.

“My name is Fralator.” The other man answered, giving a small stunted bow from his position.

“You can call me Aon.” The girl grinned, pointing at herself.

“I am Tolsin.” Mixing the words for metal and tree.

[It’s good that we picked out a name before this isn’t it?] Page said, and I could feel it smile.

“That’s a weird name.” Aon replied, as we four walked toward the door, craning her neck slightly to peer at me, who walked slightly less than two metres behind them.

“A mixture of Metal and Tree, hmmm, I would wager that your parents were foreigners, unused to the nuances of the local naming convention.” Fralator mused, cupping his chin. “Where you were from would only be truly deducible from your family name…”

“Hey now, we barely know each other, askin that would be discour… teus. Discourteous, that was it.” Aon said.

“Hate to interrupt, but this door…” Jubin interjected, he stood just in front of it, an uneasy look on his face. “Is it looking at us?”

An eye had appeared in the centre of the featureless, dark matte door, it watched us, the eye flicking from one to another, lingering on Jubin for a brief moment longer. As we stood before it, the eye blinked, smooth stone seeming to seal the eye seamlessly, so that the door became featureless once more. A small rumble passed from the door itself, before the eye closed, and the door opened upwards like the gaping maw of a great beast. Jubin scooted backwards, leaning up against a pillar.

“We ain’t actually going in that are we?” Aon asked, her right hand tightly bunched into a fist as she pulled the arm upright close to her body.

“It would certainly… seem so.” Fralator said, “surely no such beast truly exists? Some form of magic perhaps? The Brigade is known for its magical prowess alongside its martial aptitude.”

A carpet slithered out the door, straightening itself in a manner not unlike a tongue. I stared at it dubiously as it waited, before wagging itself towards us. If this really is a construct, whoever designed it has one hell of a sense of humour… I think to myself, before stepping onto the carpet.

The carpet undulated beneath me, carrying me leisurely through the door seemingly without moving the carpet from its position. The other three froze for only a second.

“Thundering storms.” Fralator ejaculated, rushing forward alongside the other two.

The corridor within was lit by strips of light lining the sides, they cast a blue glow upon the walls and the floor, yet never allowed me to see past four metres. The design of the walls was strangely streamlined, smooth and without any ornamentation whatsoever. I strode forward, now that the carpet was no longer moving, the only way forward was to walk, further and further from the entrance.

[You realize it could truly be the gullet of a strange beast? Whatever shall you do then? Cut your way out?]

If it wanted to eat us, I’m fairly certain we would have been killed in some way by now.

[Who’s to say it follows nature’s rules at all given the absurdities you’ve already witnessed?] Page huffed, worry in its voice.

It just seems out of place, the world that I’ve seen thus far has been skyscrapers and modernization, even the little amounts of magic, other than healing, fit somewhat into the role. I can’t imagine this thing to truly be alive, if nobody seems to know something similar.

Page calmed down somewhat at that, but remained uneasy.

The walls abruptly changed, returning to the ornate style that I had remembered, an archway began to show ahead of us. “Wait.” Jubin called out, I turned to see him feeling at the walls leading up to the arch.

“These walls are much older than the building above.” He said, “Something’s wrong here.” He turned, and walked three steps, before freezing in place. “It’s gone.”

It was easy to see what he had been speaking of, the walls further down were all the same, with no sign of where we had come before.

“Creepy, now let’s get goin.” Aon said, “We’ll worry about it after we’re done here and see some sunlight again.” A forced smile on her face, she pushed on, and we followed.

The arch led into a circular room, a glass filled hole above the room let down moonlight onto a book that sat upon a pedestal. The floor of the room held an image of a sun, the tines of sunlight extending from the encircled pedestal. Beside it, a man formed, with the same clothing that I had seen in the murals and statues.

“Welcome, I’ll answer your questions as far as I am able, but we need to get to work, quickly.”